


Dear Dean, I love you

by Kneverk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Grieving, Grieving Dean Winchester, I'm Sorry, M/M, Temporary Character Death, basically just know Cas'll be fine but we don't see that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kneverk/pseuds/Kneverk
Summary: After Castiel's confession and the showdown with Chuck, Dean grieves in his room. Then he finds a letter addressed to him.In this universe Jack became an actual toddler, Sam and Eileen are having a good time, but Cas is still gone and Dean's trying to hold it together.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	Dear Dean, I love you

Without… him… days were long and tiresome. Taking care of Jack, smiling for Sam, giving him hell about Eileen, it all took so much energy. Dean stumbled through each day joking, smiling, pretending. Sam saw right through it, but he hadn’t said anything yet.

Dean didn't dare wander into Castiel's room during the day. He couldn't break then, not when Sammy or little Jack might need him. But at night, when everyone else is asleep, Dean haunts the room. Castiel's empty, lonely, bland room.

Dean supposed it was that way because Castiel never thought he was allowed to stay. The bitter taste of that thought filled his stomach with nausea.

Dean sat on the bed, holding his head in his hand to hide his tears from an absent presence. It wasn't a notable action, he'd done this before in grieving. Hell, he's done this all before in grieving  _ Cas. _ But then, a phone buzzed from inside the bedside drawer. Dean thought for a second it could be Cas, coming back to him again, like he always did. But opening it, it was a fake FBI phone, labeled by duct tape. Cas would have called Dean's number. That fucking hope crushed itself back into despair. Nonetheless, he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uh," unfamiliar voice, probably some sheriff. "This is Randy Peterson, calling for a Castiel? Is that you?"

Dean gulped. It still hurt to hear his name out loud. "This is his friend," his voice broke. Dammit. "What?"

"Uh, I was told to call this number about anything strange - supernatural kind of strange."

"Just tell me where and what and get it over with." Dean had gotten mostly composed, but he still sat on Cas' bed, in Cas' room, answering a call for Cas. Who was dead. 

A sob broke from Dean's chest, the ache in it swirling behind his ribs.

"Uh, there's a ghost haunting the church in Fernley, Nevada."

"Great." Dean hung up. A case for later, he's sure it'll be fun. He didn't even bother to ask who, which ghost, which church, what happened. Forgive him, but Dean was a little distracted.

He threw the phone to the desk, the clattering echo barely registering. There was something under the pile of phones, paper. Letters. Swiping the various bullshit tools for FBI impersonation out of the way, he pulled the letters out.

_ For Dean _ , it read. God. If he wasn't crying already, that would do it.

Dean shakily unfolded the papers, finding Castiel's neat handwriting inked across the pages. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes to brace for what he would read, and began the torture.

_ Dear Dean, _

_ I write to you, yet not for you. I'm selfish. I couldn't help but write this down. I wanted to tell you, but I don't think that would be appreciated. It'd make things "awkward," as you say. _

Dean chuckled despite himself; he could just see Cas making those finger quotes. Damn adorable. 

_ You fell asleep on my shoulder last night when we were watching Tombstone. You were beautiful. I wish I could say that to you and know you'd believe it, and it wouldn't be "awkward," but I'll write it. You let your guard down enough around me to lean into my side and sleep. And it was beautiful. _

Dean sobbed.  _ That sappy motherfucker, _ he thought, if only for the performance of masculinity dwindling in his head.  _ Cas, you could've said it _ , he wished he could tell him,  _ I would've listened, I would've- _ Dean decided to stop thinking. He didn't need more fuel for tears. Then again, he kept reading.

_ I whispered I love you, only because I knew you couldn't hear it. If I did… I can't bear to lose you, Dean. I cherish our friendship even if I long for more. And though I do, and this human pulling and emptiness inside of me persists, this is okay. I am content. I may want it, but I don't need you to love me too. I am okay just to watch you rest, to be your guardian. I am okay to watch bad movies that make you happy, to indulge your interests. I am okay to smile and run my fingers through your hair, because just for a moment, I could pretend I had you. _

Dean looked away, his entire body jumping and tensing with each sob.  _ You had me all along, Cas _ , he wanted to tell him.  _ I loved you too, I would've said it back if you had just given me time _ . If only there was time. The letter continued.

_ I was happy to protect you. Happy to know you, happy to love you. Dean, if I could tell you this with certainty I would not lose you, _

_ I love you. _

_ It is a gift to know you, and stand where I stand, as your friend. As your brother. And I need nothing more than to be everything I can be for you, save you, and love you. You have taught me love and taught me beauty. I am blessed to have you as a guide to these human emotions. And I feel them for you, all of it. _

_ I was angry at you, sad for you, happy because of you. And Dean, I wish I could tell you. _

_ I love you, _

_ Castiel _

The letter ends. Dean throws it on the table to save it from his tears dripping down into his lap. His dry eyes just keep managing to produce tears, the stinging in his eyes fighting to be released in anger, punches, shouts.

But Dean is just too tired. He's lost too much. So he curls into himself, elbows grinding into his thighs to help keep his head up with his hands. Something deep inside him rings, reminding him:

_ Broken. _

Again, and again, and again.  _ Broken _ .

Cas wanted to tell him, Cas wanted more, and Dean couldn't give it. He wants to take it back, redo it all again loving him opening and true, but he can't. He's broken it all. He's hurt Cas. Cas is  _ dead _ because of him. Dean could’ve made him happy. But he didn’t, couldn’t, and that’s his fault. He’s broken, and he killed Cas.

Dean cries until consciousness drops away from him. Then he wakes up sobbing. And the day cruelly starts again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, comments and kudos make my day


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